


Blind Man's Tears

by Sue_Clover



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sue_Clover/pseuds/Sue_Clover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Frankenstein's creature is driven out of the cottage of the De Laceys, from whom he learned all that made him good, an old man still struggles to come to terms with what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Man's Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on ff.net Nov 23, 2014

An old man lay in bed. He was weak, having sustained a dreadful fright but two days ago. His heart, which had not been in the best of health to begin with, was now struggling to recover. But aside from the fear, his heart was also burdened with confusion, and guilt.

He had not yet regained the strength with which to speak, and every time he tried to sit up, soft hands pushed him back down again. From time to time he heard low voices speaking across the room, too quietly for him to hear, and wished they would not leave him alone in the darkness. For he was blind, and could not see for himself what was going on in the world. And yet normally this was not much of a problem, as his family would converse with him, and keep the darkness at bay. But now, all was silent.

He wanted to know what was going on. What had happened that day, the day they had left their house? What had Felix done? He feared the worst. He knew a man had been there, for the man had asked for his help. Had begged his help. And then his family had come home, and the man had suddenly torn away. He had heard a sound of something hitting flesh, and a cry. And then footsteps running away into the night.

De Lacey had tried to get up and help, after Felix's chilling yell, but found his words stuck in his throat as he choked and collapsed. He was not made for such stress, and he had failed. Whoever that man was had had no one, had been no one. De Lacey and his family had been the man's last hope. And they had rejected him, shoved him away. De Lacey could not fathom what sort of deformity could cause such a change in his mild-mannered son. What could turn him into such a beast? The stranger had said he was afraid of their reactions upon seeing him. What could he look like, to have incited such fear and rage into his children?

Whatever it was, no fearsome appearance would cause a man to deserve such cruel treatment upon first sight. No poor soul should be treated that way. He had done no wrong – instead of driving him away, they should have given him courtesy. More than ever, De Lacey now wished to regain his strength so he could go back to try to amend his mistake.

He lay there for half a day more, before he could speak. He opened his eyes, reaching out a hand for his children. "Felix," he croaked. "Agatha, Safie. Tell me what happened." He could sense them all sharing a glance in the pause, trying to decide what to tell him. "Tell me, now, or I shall never have peace."

It was Felix who spoke. "We came home from our walk, Father, and when we entered we saw this monstrous creature hunched over you, clutching at you. Agatha and Safie fainted dead away at the sight, and fearing the fiend would harm you, I tore it away and beat it with my stick until it fled. You were lucky you could not see it, father, for your health could not have taken the sight. The wretch was huge, a mighty beast of skin and flesh and bone, and yet it looked like death. Its skin was the sickly grey of a corpse and its eyes – they were the most terrifying of all. I am amazed and deeply thankful that you were not harmed by the thing."

All through this description De Lacey was shaking his head. "Oh, my son. Oh, Felix, _what have you done?_ "

"I –" Felix stopped, taken aback by his father's vehemence. "Father, I saved your life!"

"No, my son, you have doomed us all! Your haste and unkindness has driven away that very spirit which has given us such help and hope these last few months," he said, for so De Lacey supposed him to be. "Now, surely he will curse us for our cruelty." With that he made up his mind. "Help me up," he said. "We are going back to the cottage."

His children were still confused. "Father, no," exclaimed Agatha. "What if he should return?"

"We must pray that he will. Now let's get a move on.

"No." That was Felix.

"If you will not help me there, I shall go myself," the old man said irritably. "This is all my fault anyway. He asked for hospitality, for shelter, and I failed him. I must give him recompense for our sins against him."

"But I have already informed the landlord of our departure. We cannot go back to living there."

"Nevertheless, we shall go."

The old man remained implacable, and eventually the younger ones agreed, and helped him out of the inn where they were staying. Safie could see it was important to him, and that he would not rest until he did this. Thus they came in a wagon to the house they had called home for two years, only to find it in ashes.

"Alas! We are too late," cried the old man in despair when he was told this. He fell to his knees and blindly began to pray.

His children watched him in concern, then after a moment knelt beside him. "Father," began Agatha, "if that monstrous creature was truly the same as that which brought us firewood in the night, what are we to do? How can we make it up to him?"

"There is nothing left to do," said De Lacey. "It was a test, my children. God sent us a test, and we failed."


End file.
